PUNK ROCK
by Neil Davies
Summary: London 1977, a punk record shop and a 17 year old girl is about to be plunged in the strange reality of alien contact and a certain time lord.


11

PUNK ROCK

Stifling a yawn Alex tried to keep her eyes open but it wasn't easy not after another of Mark's parties that had gone on into the wee small hours. How much had she drunk, she'd lost count after the double vodka and that small pill Mark had given her; go on try it this is mind-blowing stuff, and so it had been.

Alex rubbed her weary eyes and tried to focus on the box of vinyl 45's in front her, new records by the Clash, the Pistols and the Damned. She took them over to the table over which stood a huge Sham 69 poster and began to sort them. Over the speakers Souixie and the Banshees were wailing way too loudly and Alex gritted her teeth against the pain, it was driving her nuts as was the shop owner, a guy in his twenties with green and orange spikes, the face of Sid Vicious on his faded rather smelly t-shirt. Oliver was way too old for Sid and Oliver was totally the wrong name for a shop specialising in alternative new wave.

"Hey what do you think of this," he asked making his way over, they were alone in the shop as usual on a Tuesday, it was raining and cold and she wanted to be back in her flat in bed and fast asleep. He'd brought over a book a photo album really with blurred, grainy images in it that her bloodshot eyes couldn't focus on.

"UFOs," he said, "Taken over Wiltshire." Oliver was into UFOs in a big way he believed in all that crap about aliens, he even went out at night with a Pentax to try and capture some shots himself not that he ever had or would; weirdo.

"They exist you know, beings from other planets too many people have seen too many things."

Sure they had if they were on the right pills. Alex knew that with drugs you could see and hear anything you wanted not that she was a user, well not a regular user she didn't believe in weed or dope which made her very different from most other 17 year olds as did her spiky locks, piercings, tattoo and leathers.

"Sure they do," her voice grated, "Mr Spock is going to walk in at any moment."

This earned her a concerned look, Oliver took an almost big brotherly interest in his little punkette – as he called her a title she loathed.

"Are you okay Alex you don't look it and you don't sound it – flu," he enquired, couldn't he smell the booze on her she'd consumed enough.

"Heavy night, Mark's birthday," she said.

"Oh yeah Mark your boyfriend."

Mark wasn't her boyfriend he was into Olga the blue spiked German exchange student over from Munich, a radical socialist hell raiser always out on demos and those weren't Alex's scene at all she wasn't very political although Mark had begun spouting slogans recently.

"You know I'm single," she said fingering a Stranglers single, "I don't have anyone at the moment."

Oliver was very close to her and studying her, "You should have," he said, "Pretty girl like you."

Alex wasn't pretty of that she was certain, too short, a bit too plump around the arse, a roundish face with small eyes, uneven teeth and stick out ears that her thick locks only just concealed. Not like Olga, tall beautiful perfect Olga whom Mark lusted after.

"Get lost," she said making her way over to some rolled up concern posters local bands trying to break into the big time and find their own Malcolm McClaren, a copy of the daily worker lay open nearby, strike now it cried, fight fascist cuts. She noted the date November 22nd almost her birthday, in a few days time she would be…

"That's odd," Oliver mused.

"What is," she asked not really interested in looking at more UFOs?

"This," he said, "Look at it," one of his snaps was clearer than the others with more detail showing a long lean sort of object at a 45 degree angle with markings on it and windows and through one of the windows…

"Oh god is that a head," she asked, "It is a head with a face," eyes to blazing, piercing eyes gazing out at them, alien eyes of chilling intensity, Alex felt a bit dizzy a bit sick, was she going to throw up.

"An alien," Oliver was panting with excitement now really worked up about it.

"Probably just a flaw on the film," she said only she didn't quite believe it because she to thought the face belonged to something inhuman.

"No Alex it's real, a real alien."

"They are none, grow up Ollie," her guts turned over and her mouth had a horrible taste. Before he could say more she dashed out of the shop into the back only just reaching the tiny loo in time, out it came in several streams as her stomach contracted and she heaved it all up last night's takeaway and booze and other gunk.

"You okay," the stupid question drifted to her, no of course I'm not okay I'm puking my guts out isn't it obvious, I had too much to drink because I was trying to show off and impress bloody Mark not that he noticed not with Olga all over him like an octopus.

Then Oliver's voice changed as he spoke to someone else, "Can I help you," great they finally had a customer some poor sod had dragged his arse out in this weather to buy a 45, couldn't the fool wait for one day?

Then Oliver's tone changed, "What are you doing," he asked, "Oh my god what is that," he sounded terrified, "God no," he screamed and then…then she heard this rushing, roaring, burning noise electric and fizzy and light blinded her filling the shop front all silvery blue, neon and freaky.

Alex wiped her chin and stood there shaking, Oliver had gone very silent after his scream – yes he'd screamed in an awful high-pitched agonized way like he was being…

She didn't know what do or think or say, someone was moving around in the shop but the clumping heavy steps were not those of her boss, he had gone and maybe he was…dead. No don't think that he can't be dead not daft alien loving Ollie he had too much living to do, more records to sell; PUNK WORLD was his life shabby dump that it was.

Alex knew she couldn't hide in the loo forever she had to go and see what was happening, this was her place of work to, resisting the urge to say something stupid like 'hello' or 'is there anyone there' she crept up the passage to the streamers clogged with dust and dead flies.

She could see movement a dark shape that was kind of stiff and wooden like a robot or something, there was no sign of Oliver just this smell of burnt pork. The intruder moved over to her box of 45s but didn't touch them it was more interested in something else – the UFO photos; of course it was touching them with a hand not picking them up though.

There was a sudden flash of light from the hand both on it and around it like the hand could ignite in some way and Alex smelt something else, another kind of burning as the photos went up in flames. The guy was destroying the grainy UFO pix but why, what use were they?

Turning he looked at the streamers and Alex stifled a cry of horror, his face oh god his face…he didn't have one he was a blank a nothing, no mouth, nose or cheeks, not even any hair or ears or a chin just two round holes, red holes, blazing orbs like on that photo. Heart pounding Alex ducked down just in time as the streamers ignited bursting into fiery fronds of plastic. She had no choice but to dive under them, the back door was blocked up so there was no escape that way, her only way out was the shop door.

Something flashed above her brilliantly and the rotary telephone big and black melted, it just turned to gloop and ran down the table leg to drip and pool on the floor. Keeping bent double she reached a desk, behind this was a big garish poster of Marc Bolan, the only concession in the shop to anything non-punk; poor doomed Marc who'd died recently in a car crash.

He died again as the poster erupted into sparks and flames, fragments spitting out in all directions to create mini-fires in a dozen locations, Alex was aware the shop was burning in several places now with thick clouds of smoke filling the air making her cough and cry, her throat raw with fumes and spikes full of dust motes.

The intruder didn't seem to be affected at all he wasn't coughing or crying as if he didn't need to breathe air at all, when she moved there was another flash and the records near the door exploded all their beast albums, bits of them flying all over her some sticking to her hair and jacket disgustingly.

"Please," she cried, "Why are you doing this, I won't say anything just leave me alone."

Why was he coming after her, why was she so important? Alex decided to risk the door and just go for it one last mad dash. Then she found Oliver or what was left of him, it was horrible, obscene poor Ollie was cooked, shrivelled, partly melted most of him was gone like arms and legs only the upper bit was left and blackened around the edges, his chest and face and the face was expanded, flattened out like a grotesque pizza.

Stomach heaving again Alex fell on her back legs kicking, she was choked up with horror and knew in that moment that she was going to die now, 17 almost 18 but it was over for her; she was going to be wiped out by a faceless alien in a shop that sold punk records. Blimey there had to be a hit single in that somewhere, maybe David Bowie could write it.

As the thing the assassin from hell clomped over to her on what felt like ill-fitting clogs, the record player in the corner that had been dead for weeks came to life playing The Jam singing 'a town called malice'. The robot thing with red eyes swung away from her and from its hand shot a blinding flash, the record playing exploded into smithereens in-between the MAL and the ICE.

But it had given Alex the chance she needed and crawling backwards she wormed her way behind a stack of LP boxes to a waste bin, on which sat…and hear she almost fainted. There was a guy sat on the bin actually on it hugging his knees, 30ish, short cropped hair and a brown jacket. He looked too old and too square to be in a punk music store or indeed any kind of music store, what was he doing on the bin?

Alex didn't know him, didn't want to and felt like screaming but raising a finger to his lips the man went, "Shhhhh," then "Keep totally still."

Not sure why she should trust him – he could be anyone – Alex froze and clamped her teeth shut. The man whispered,

"Motion sensor in the upper thorax," he nodded at the robot. Turning the killer scanned the shop which was still burning and smoky; he clumped one way then changed his mind and clumped another obviously confused. Its working thought Alex the silence and stillness, what a good idea.

The odd man on the bin cocked a thumb he was pointing at the charred blackened streamers, no thought Alex he can't go through there it's a dead end and we'll be trapped but he was already on all fours doggy walking towards them, not sure why she followed back towards the tiny loo where she had made a real mess.

"We can't get out," she gasped, "The back door is jammed shut."

"I know," he hissed back.

"Then what are we doing, if that thing finds us we're…" she didn't want to think about poor Ollie.

Crawling past the loo (and holding his nose) the odd man reached the back door EXIT was printed on it, taking something pencil shaped with a blue tip from his pocket he aimed this at the door, there was a curious octave of high-pitched sound and from outside the door came the crash and clatter of heavy crates falling over, suddenly sunlight streamed through the door's tiny window.

Seizing the metal locking bar the man shoved hard but it didn't move, he tried again with a grunt but no luck so he aimed his odd pencil at it and the sound altered to a soft whine.

"It won't shift," Alex groaned, "Probably rusted in place after all this time," she had never used nor had she seen Ollie use it either.

The clomping grew closer and louder, a tall sinister shadow fell over them and looking back she two evil blood-red slits gazing at them both, slowly a hand rose.

"Oh my god," the next thing she knew she was outside, she wasn't sure how it happened but she'd been both pulled and pushed and the man was with her with a big grin on his face like he'd pulled off a spectacular magical trick. Behind them the door exploded in a welter of sparks utterly destroyed.

Up fast and pulling her up the man waved, "This way," he said haring across a dirty, cluttered yard with a grey gate at the far end, there was rubbish everywhere and she had to be careful not to twist her ankle.

"I can't climb over that," she said knowing she wasn't fit enough.

"We're not going to," he said.

"You mean we're going to hide out here until that thing losses interest?"

"It won't lose interest because you have something it wants."

Before she could ask what he had pulled the photo from her jacket, the one with the clear UFO on it, an alien face peering from its side window. "This," said the man, "Is what the hunter is after, why it came to your shop, killed Oliver and intends to kill you."

She was astounded all this for a crappy flying saucer pic that was probably faked.

"This isn't real none of them are," she argued.

The man said, "This photo is real and I know that because I was there, I saw the alien craft myself."

Mad, completely insane he had to be; as soft in the head as poor dead Ollie. Clomping prevented any further debate and before she knew it she was behind some metal drums, the robot thing had entered the yard and in the light just how freakish and inhuman it was became obvious. Not a man not anything she'd ever seen before it seemed to be made of wood, plastic, ceramic and junk, hastily thrown or welded together from whatever happened to be available.

"What the hell is that thing," she asked?

"It's called a Facson," the man responded, "Literally a hunter/killer, it's not alive but it is lethal."

Great and now it was heading for them, Alex began to pray in her mind something she hadn't done in a long time not that it was likely to do any good against a Facson.

Raising the silver pencil the man squeezed and twisted it until the blue end turned orange and from it came a melody of high and low notes, not a song exactly more like a hi-tech car alarm – irritating and persistent.

The robot wobbled a bit, righted itself and took another step, then it wobbled again clutching the side of its head with one hand like it was in pain or confused.

"Are you doing this," she asked, "Can you destroy it?"

"That's not the idea I need it to do something more important."

What could be more important than staying alive she wondered as the robot wobbled some more and smoke began to billow from its collar and sleeves.

"Yes this is more like it, system overload," the man grunted, "Come on," he urged, "Come on," and slowly the thing lumbered over to a wide bin and removed its circular lid.

"Perfect," the man seemed delighted by this odd occurrence.

"What is," she asked, "A bin lid?"

"Only it isn't just a bin lid," he sighed.

"It looks like one to me," but to her surprise the robot laid the bin lid on the ground then stepped onto it, what the hell was it doing now?

Before her eyes a canopy of sparkling blue lights rose up around the killer fizzing and bubbling in the air, the robot itself glowed the same tint of blue then rippled as if in a heat haze before totally and utterly vanishing.

It was gone like a ghost just no longer there, but the bin lid was and it was smoking.

"Wow," Alex was blown away, "Unbelievable, where has it gone."

The man jabbed his sonic device at the clouds, "Back to its ship which is where I want to go."

"You're bonkers," she told him. Probably said his toothy grin but I'm still going.

"This is where we say goodbye then," he responded.

"Alex," she told him.

"Alex," he repeated, "and I'm the Doctor, it was nice meeting you; what year is this by the way?"

Was he serious, "This year," her scorn was sharp-edged, "Silver jubilee year."

"Oh 1977," he appeared genuinely surprised; "I've been there before."

"Well of course you have," Alex drawled.

"No I mean for me 1977 is the past, I came here from," he cut himself of, "You're not following this at all are you, you think I'm crazy."

He was right on that score, but rather than labour the point he jogged over to the bin lid, the magic bin lid.

"Wait," she wasn't sure why but going after him she caught him by the arm, "You're actually going after that thing; it tried to kill you?"

"Oh yes thanks for reminding me," he had her photo again, "You're better off without this or the Facson will come back."

For some odd reason she wanted to keep the photo it was all she had left of Ollie, the poor deluded fool.

"So you're planning to buzz off up into that UFO, is that what you're telling me?"

He nodded like it was the most natural thing in the world; something he did all the time, "Doctor, its suicide," she said sure he wasn't a real doctor.

"I do suicidally dangerous things all the time," he responded.

"But why are you doing it what do these creatures have to do with you?"

Becoming serious he ran a thumb over the photo, "A good and decent man was murdered because he took this, that's not right; then there's you Alex a teenage girl with her whole life in front of her; nobody has the right to take that future away."

She was actually moved could feel the lump in her throat, nobody had ever valued her before not plain dumpy Alex the school dropout and general disappointment, good for nothing with no boyfriend.

"I'm nobody," she confessed.

"Nobody's nobody," looking right at her the Doctor was suddenly very intense and very sincere, "You matter," he went on, "I stayed in that shop to save you because you're worth saving, I couldn't help Ollie I was too late but you deserve to live and no alien species has any right to decide otherwise."

Quite taken aback by this speech Alex willed herself not to blub it was so weak and girlie and she was a punk for god sake they were meant to be hard and cynical.

"Don't go," she pleaded.

I have to said his blue eyes "Have a good life," he told her as he stepped on the lid, and one second later she was on it to holding his arm. "What is this," he asked?

"I'm coming with you," she said.

"Not a good idea health and safety wise."

"If I cared about that I wouldn't have any piercings," she smiled.

"Alex this is a matter transporter it's going to project us several miles upwards into an alien space vehicle are you ready for this?"

No she wasn't who would be, but it was better than an empty ruined shop down a back street on a cold wet day.

"I've never been on an alien ship before."

"These aliens are not friendly," he warned.

"I'm with you," she pointed out.

"I can be dangerous to," he said as blue sparks jumped up around them and she felt her tummy tingle, the world seemed to flip inside out and she fell into his grip; oh no surely she wasn't going to puke again was she?

It was like one of those gloomy tunnels leading to a tube station, the walls a greyish black and made of something part metal part concrete, sinister hardly covered it Alex felt buried alive, smothered. She held onto the Doctor and he didn't seem to mind not at first, only prizing himself loose to run his odd sonic pen back and forth in sweeping patterns.

"We're alone and undetected – I think," he said.

"Is this the inside of a…," she began?

He nodded and fear clutched at Alex like it rarely had before, oh god she actually in the belly of an alien craft.

"You'll be fine," he told her, "It takes a moment to adjust to the differences."

She knew what he meant odd smells, odd colours and an odd vibration passing through her.

"I can't move Doctor."

"Yes you can Alex just look at me and listen to my voice, you can handle this," he told her firmly, "You can."

She felt for a moment as though he was inside her mind but in a good way, a strengthening supportive kind of way.

"Where are the aliens," she was in no real hurry to meet them?

"We're amidships, most of them seem to be ahead of us in the control area," he took a step in the opposite direction which was fine by her as she was keen to avoid more monsters especially of the clomping wooden variety.

"Where are you going?"

"Most space craft have their power generation systems to the back of the ship, I want to have a gander, a sniff around and see what I can do to make life difficult."

"Won't that make them angry, violently so," she had seen the extent of their ill-humour?

"We need to stop this lot hurting anyone else."

"This lot – do you know who or what they are?"

Looking around he gave a sniff and parted his hands, "Not yet not completely, hardly a wealth of clues are there."

"Do they look like that robot thing," she asked?

"Shouldn't think so, I mean who'd want to look like that?"

As they walked along the tunnel it seemed to grow if anything darker and more claustrophobic, the round walls pressing in on her so that she could hardly breathe, but there was a growing noise a throbbing whine of a mechanical nature.

"Is that the engine," she asked, "What kind of fuel does this craft use, I'm assuming it isn't crude oil?"

Unlikely said his quick smile, "I like an enquiring mind Alex."

"It isn't nuclear is it?"

"I'm not detecting high radiation," he aimed the sonic directly ahead.

"Only we've no protection," she told him thinking of those heavy clunking decontamination suits.

In response he let her see the sonic up close it looked such a flimsy thing.

"Yes we do," he wagged the device, "9001 uses and that's just on the economy setting, I never go anywhere without it; if there was a problem this would tell me."

Alex frowned, "It's not from earth is it," she asked meaningfully?

"No," he admitted.

"You're not from earth are you," it was an easy correlation to make, after all did he sound or act like anyone she'd ever met even in her crazy world?

"Is that a problem," he asked softly? No she supposed it wasn't and if it was, it was too late to back out now they were here.

The large, long bronze coloured tubes numbered about ten as far as she could see, they formed a cylinder and were moving slowly clockwise giving off soft tangerine sparks, in the centre of them was this ghostly haze a light purple colour.

"Anti matter," the Doctor sounded almost relieved, "Or rather a matter/anti matter fusion system, pretty basic to most interplanetary shuttles of this type and era."

"Era," Alex picked up on sure he didn't mean the 1970s?

"Safe to circle at this distance but I wouldn't try to touch it."

"What would happen if we did," she had to ask. Taking an apple from his pocket, yes he had an actual apple in his pocket a Granny Smith by the looks of it; she chose not to ask why it wasn't dried up or bruised.

Letting her touch it (yep a real apple ready to bite into), he then tossed the thing towards the cylinder it flew so far then froze in mid air as if grabbed by an invisible hand, the next instant it was somehow turned inside out so she could see the core and pips then it was shredded to nothing as if pulled through a very tiny sharp edged hole.

"Oh god," she said imagining her body doing the same thing, "That's hideous."

"Just the field given off by the atomic reactions taking place in and around this unit," diverting away from the cylinder the Doctor ducked down so that he could get a closer look at a soft green coloured pod to one side of it, using his fingernails he prized this open.

"What happen to that Facson, I mean it beamed up here just ahead of us but there's no sign of it, so where did it go in the opposite direction?"

All she got back was a disinterest hum that might have been yes, no or who cares but she cared because she'd seen what was left of Oliver, i.e. not a hell of a lot.

"I mean I saw that you hurt or disabled it some way with sound but it would be okay once it got back up here wouldn't it?"

Another hum but he was busy tinkering, fiddling around like one of those car repairing anoraks her brother hung around with, then gradually he stopped looked up and looked around at her, his genial mood changing in an instant as he took in the importance of what had just been said.

"Oh yeah," he rose part of the way out of his crouch, "I take your point."

Suddenly very cold Alex hugged herself it was like a fridge door had just been opened, "I mean it could be here couldn't it powering itself up with all this hardware."

"Yes it could," he conceded, "Alex."

"Yes?"

"Come over here a minute will you very slowly," he waved.

"It is here isn't it," Close to panic now she looked around anxiously peering into every shadow, "It came here to wait for us, anticipating that you'd follow," me to like a sap?

When she didn't move he did approaching her in a smooth glide, but they both heard the first clump followed by another and a third. The wooden faceless killer was suddenly there between them stiff but terrifying. Waving her to keep still the Doctor aimed his sonic at the thing but this time it was ready for him and to her amazement a third limb a third arm detached itself from the robot's torso with a crack of splintering wooden.

Longer than the other two arms it lashed out sending the sonic flying as it grabbed the Doctor around the throat in a lethal one handed choke.

Help him – how could she help him, she couldn't let him be strangled?

The sonic, she had to get it and seeing in on the door she threw herself at it landing on her stomach.

The Doctor made a choking sound but she couldn't work out what he was trying to say, he'd gone blue in the face and surely didn't have long.

Picking up the sonic Alex turned and aimed it at the creature, what did she do squeeze, press, twist; she did all three. A sharp discordant buzz filled the air was it the right sound?

The answer came when the robot's head exploded, it just blew up with a loud pop bursting wide open in a shower of sparks and wood chip.

Yanking the now inert hand from his neck the Doctor sucked in air, the robot's headless body stood there it hadn't fallen over but its neck stump was gushing smoke. Alex felt a curious thrill of success, she'd done that saved the Doctor and destroyed Ollie's killer it felt just.

"Are you going to be okay," she asked but he still couldn't speak so he just nodded and cocked a thumb.

This was when the giant thing appeared all around them it was globe-shaped and shimmering being made of condensed light, at first she couldn't workout what it was until she saw the blazing red eyes, the tiny nose and gash of a mouth lined with small needle-sharp teeth. The head was potato shaped and made of soft whitish grey flesh puckered at the sides and top with blue veins at both temples.

Alex didn't need to be told that this was one of the alien crew but it was so massive and ethereal more like a ghost.

"Hologram," said her companion as the alien head began to shrink and gain more definition going from gigantic to merely large filling half of the engine room.

"What have you done to our ship," the alien spoke without moving its lips the voice harsh but oddly childish in nature like a mean kid some school yard bully and Alex knew all about them?

"You're travelling back in time," the Doctor answered still nursing his bruised throat, "You're no longer in 1977," he explained, "Nor over Britain either; I've given you a slight nudge to the west."

Alex didn't understand, time travel?

The strange bald red eyed alien responded, "How can you do this who are you?"

"I'm here to protect the people of earth from you; murder is strictly off the menu."

The alien responded, "We simply do not wish to be discovered."

"That's no excuse," the Doctor raged and Alex thought no it isn't what about poor Ollie and me?

"What is happening to our craft now," the alien's voice had a panicky quality to it?

That's a very good question Alex was thinking as she felt a violent lurch in her stomach, like she got in a lift when it was going down – hang on, going down?

"Doctor," she cried but he knew.

"Initiate emergency landing," he told the alien, "Or you'll crash."

"You have sabotaged our drive unit, no human has this knowledge."

"I'm not human," he shouted back then softer, "Well not entirely."

Another violent lurch, sideways this time as the ship tried to right itself.

"Control has been lost," said the alien just before its holographic image cut out to.

"Doctor we're crashing, we'll be killed," Alex panicked but he was back over the green pod working on tiny processors, all the time shaking his head and muttering asking why this was happening as if he hadn't planned it.

"Not if I can help it Alex I know what I'm doing."

"Seriously," she was beginning to wonder?

"I've no wish to commit suicide have I," he threw back.

"We're dropping faster I can feel it," they were going down like a stone.

"Imagination," he told her without much conviction.

"No it isn't we're plummeting, we're going to die."

She heard soft footsteps approaching and these alerted her to the arrival of two oddly dwarfish, small feeble looking creatures neither taller than 3 feet in height they were like ugly bald kids after a year of chemotherapy. In the flesh the alien crew were ugly but not half as scary as their robot except for the eyes, red and fearsome. Even so she backed away from them unhooking the chain around her waist to use as a weapon,

"Close enough," she told them but neither of the creatures seemed remotely impressed.

"The ship is doomed," said one, "All systems have gone offline."

"Well they shouldn't," the Doctor replied without looking up, "When was the last time this heap was serviced?"

The aliens swapped a look and a shrug like they didn't know and Alex realised they were as scared and confused as she was; somehow vulnerable in their own way.

"All I can do is slow us down," the Doctor grunted, "Have you got an escape pod," he glanced up at the tiny faces, "Parachutes," he implored, "Okay how many of you are there?"

One of the aliens raised three fingers and with an exasperated sigh the time lord said, "Get to the most secure part of the ship the place with the most insulation."

"That is here," he was told.

"Then tell your pilot to get himself here," the Doctor urged, "Alex get over there and hang onto something," he was pointing at what looked like a large boxy radiator.

"So we're definitely going to crash are we, I mean hit the ground at speed and explode," what a strange way to die, London record shop to alien space craft then SPLAT and it was all over.

"We won't explode if I can help it," the Doctor looked as scared as she felt.

"We're near the engines they'll go up first," she argued.

The small aliens issued her over to the radiator where they were clearly going to hide to, their pilot had appeared by now and if anything he was even smaller. Joining them he threw Alex a curious kind of timid smile and held her hand (his flesh felt human much to her surprise), it was a gesture she found endearing, where did these guys come from?

"This is it," the Doctor careered across the room, "I've done all I can," he promised squatting down, "At least it seems to be an unoccupied area."

"Where," Alex cried as if it mattered?

"American mid west I think."

So they were going to be stranded in the USA some time in the past with no documents and three aliens for company; not an ideal scenario and then there were her colourful punk locks how would people from the past react to them?

"Be honest Doc, we're dead aren't we?"

Even then he managed to summon a smile albeit a rather tight one, "What a way to go" he said as the earth hit them very hard with a crunching grind and she was blinded by sparks, smoke, blurred faces and what felt like hot sand, lots of sand.

Later, outside the ship.

Nothing broken just a few cuts and bruises but she was alive if very shaken, it was a desert of some kind hot and dry with bits of scrub. The UFO was a total wreck, split into pieces. The small aliens lay together unconscious and badly bruised, the Doctor had done all he could for them given that he was in pain to.

The air was so hot it burned her throat and the sun was fierce, this had to be mid summer not mid autumn.

"How far back are we, 100 years?"

"Just 30," he said like this was nothing?

"1947," she remarked it was thirteen years before she'd been born give or take, mum would be the same age she'd been in 1977 "So we're stuck here are we in the 1940's?"

Far off she could hear a sound it wasn't the wind but something mechanical, "A helicopter," the Doctor guessed; they were going to be rescued?

"Yes definitely a chopper there's an air force base close by but we can't end up in the hands of the military, too many questions," he added.

"What about them," Alex indicated the trio of tiny sleeping bodies?

"None of them is too badly hurt, no broken bones or internal bleeding I checked."

With an airy gesture he went over to a mound of sand an odd oblong shaped hill she supposed and used his sonic on it creating a localized mini tornado that began to blast the sand away to reveal a patch of blue then another then a white letter P then a flashing lamp and a handle and a small window until…

"A police box, did Americans have them in the 40s; what's it doing here?"

Taking out a key he opened the doors and a strange unearthly light shone in her face accompanied by this oscillating noise.

"This is our way out of here Alex, no questions please just get inside; I don't think we have time to take the Reticulans," he was right as a trio of military helicopters had crested a rise and where zeroing in on their position with what sounded like an angry snarl, they looked very aggressive and ready to open fire.

"What will happen to them," Alex was suddenly quite concerned at the fate of the aliens, "They'll be prisoners?"

"Maybe we can come back and help them," he said, "But we won't do that if we ourselves become prisoners."

The Doctor clearly didn't have much faith in the military and to be honest she found them a bit scary to.

She drew her gaze into the odd light of the box; the interior was which was very strange as it seemed to go on and on.

"What is that thing," she blinked as he took her by the arm.

"Just trust me," he replied as the first of the choppers roared overhead and from it a loud amplified voice told them both to stay where they were just before Alex plummeted into the light.


End file.
